


Upside Down Kingdom

by kristin



Category: The Wire
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 13:59:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5419664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristin/pseuds/kristin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bodie was a little offended that Carver hadn’t gone to him first. He wasn’t no snitch and he sure as hell didn’t like any police strolling onto his corner, but really - Carver had no sense of history. If a man was going to do something as dumbass as try and make friends with soldiers, they might want to stick to those that they knew to start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Upside Down Kingdom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bourgeois](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bourgeois/gifts).



> Title from Talib Kweli's "I Try." Thanks to bourgeois for the prompt and chance to write about these two! You said you liked the scene with them on the corner so I ran with it. And special thanks to Elanya for the beta!

He heard about Carver’s crusade on one of those spring days that tricks you into wearing nothing but a tee, all the sunshine and cloudless skies that promise summer even as the wind whipped like it was still winter. Bodie was blowing into his hands waiting for Slim Charles to roll up so he could get back onto the stoop where the railing at least blocked out a bit of the wind.

“You got any problems with heat around here?” Bodie shook his head. This area was dead all around. No one buying so no cops snooping. He was fucking bored. He leaned in a bit closer to the car window feeling the warmth seep out.

“I was talking to Triple a few blocks from here and he say some police been around all friendly like, cracking jokes and such.”

“The fuck, they trying for another Hamsterdam? Because that shit was shut down hard.”

Slim Charles shrugged, “I’m just passing along the word.”

He didn’t sound much like he cared, and really, he didn’t need to. Prop Joe kept mostly to the East side, just doing a bit of providing these days. Besides, Joe had so much grease sliding around this town Slim Charles had no need to fret about some friendly police, no matter how odd that phrase was.

“The cop got a name?” Bodie asked, because this was his turf. He didn’t have no man behind the curtain. He needed to be ready.

“Carver, I think he said.” 

Maybe it was some Hamsterdam shit then. Bodie had seen Carver hovering about there joking about Bodie’s business. It was just like him. 

Slim Charles must have seen the recognition on his face because he said,“You know him.”

“We had a run in or two, but I ain’t seen nothing like that.” Slim nodded and held out his hand for dap before rolling off.

So Bodie was prepared when the next day Carver rolled up all smile and holster at the ready. Lex had actually done good, calling out “po-po,” getting the runners to scatter like they should. Bodie nodded approvingly at him, pointedly ignoring Reecee walking the stash away calmly. This corner may be two-bit, but it was fucking professional, no rules of order needed.

Bodie picked up the paper, thumbing through it to an article on how Carcetti was cleaning up the city expecting to only have to pick his way through a couple lines. He mouthed the words, sounding them out in his head, waiting for the interruption. But when he finished the first column Carver was still talking to Little Kevin. 

Bodie leaned in a bit closer to hear, “You don’t want to tell me your name, maybe I’m just going to make something up now. You, big man, you got a bearing to you. I’m thinking something regal. You’re King Arthur.”

Bodie dug his chin down into his shirt to bury his smile at the way Kev raises his chin up, proud. Nigga was too dumb to realize that Carver was as big an asshole with his words as with his fists, had been from the first day.

“Okay then, Arthur-”

“Kevin.”

“Just Kevin?”

“Little Kevin.”

“So I see,” said Carver, arching an eyebrow at Bodie like they were buddies. Bodie glanced down quick at the paper, pretending like Carver hadn’t caught him looking. “And good afternoon to you Mr. Broadus.”

“Oh, do I know you?” asked Bodie.

“All of you are going to know me much better, soon,” said Carver before rolling into a speech about how he was going to coming around so often they would know him better than their own fathers, though that wasn’t hard. 

Bodie pretended to tune it out, letting his eyes skim over something about the Orioles. Bodie had never liked baseball, too slow and controlled. Poot watched it though, tried to teach him about the box scores. Probably was all about that now that he was doing his time, reading the little boxes in his box.

“Do I not have your attention, Bodie?”

“No.”

“Does our history mean nothing to you?” asked Carver, his face an exaggerated pout.

“Oh yes, I think back often about you trying to beat my ass.” Truthfully, Bodie hadn’t had time to think about Carver, hadn’t had time for thinking at all since Avon was put away and String fell. Shit just had to get done. Had to find a package, had to find a crew to keep at least this corner. But he wasn’t going to admit that.

Not when he was a little offended that Carver hadn’t come to him first. He wasn’t no snitch and he sure as hell didn’t like any police strolling onto his corner, but really - Carver had no sense of history. If a man was going to do something as dumbass as try and make friends with soldiers, they might want to stick to those that they knew to start.

“Does our friendship mean so little to you?” Carver had edged up close to Bodie. He tilted his head and purposefully caught Bodie’s eyes, too fucking sincere. 

But Bodie wasn’t going to punk out. He held the eye contact, making sure Carver knew he wasn’t backing down. “We’re friends now - huh.” said Bodie.

“Didn’t you just hear my spiel? I’m going to be your best friend from now on,” said Carver, finally looking away. He nodded to Kevin. “See you again soon.”

Bodie was still stuck on the friend thing. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew it was a fucking joke, but fuck it. He couldn’t stop picturing it. Not some kindergarten crayon sharing, just little things kept popping into his head over the next week, little flashes of Carver making snide remarks in his head.

He had too much time alone out here now, that was the problem. You shouldn’t be friends with your crew, Stringer had taught him that - one more lesson tossed out like a lecture. Another of his fucking rules. A lot of fucking good his rules had done him anyway. But still, Stringer was smart

Maybe that was why when he saw Carver sitting at the counter of Lucy’s he went up to him. Or maybe that was just the fifth he’d already had. It wasn’t because Carver was more familiar than anyone else he’d seen today. That would be fucked up.

Bodie didn’t go to bars, really. He liked house parties, but those were in short supply these days. Too small a crew of his own. He’d been to a party earlier, Slim Charles inviting him out. 

Maybe he was just stubborn, but Bodie didn’t feel comfortable hanging with Prop Joe’s crew yet. The way Slim Charles had shown him about was too much like a courtship, like Bodie was being brought over. Like fuck he was. So he’d slipped out early and found himself here, stupidly reckless, approaching a fucking police.

It was weird to look at him from this angle, Bodie slightly taller than Carver on the stool. He considered leaving before Carver notice him but fuck it. Bodie had spent the day surrounded by people he didn’t know and he just wanted to - he didn’t know. He just wanted to talk to Carver.

“Sergeant Carver, you’re hurting my feelings here.”

To his credit Carver didn’t jump, just look him up and down, assessing. Fucking cop. After he apparently assured himself Bodie wasn’t here to cap him he drawled out “I can see you’re all broken up.”

“I really am,” said Bodie as he looked up at Carver like he was his Gramma holding the last cookie, trying to sell his disappointment. “You make this big ass speech about being my best friend and yet you don’t even say ‘hi.’”

“So help me if you make any noise about me buying your under-age ass alchohol-”

“I can get my own damn liquor.”

“Apparently. And I take it you haven’t decided to confess your sins to me,” said Carver. He grinned, slouching backward on his stool, setting his badge swinging. “Are you reporting a crime?”

Bodie laughed. As his shoulders shook they knocked a bit into Carver’s. He could feel the heat of him, solid. This was the closest they’d ever been without fists getting thrown.

“Oh, you’re here for the Sergeant Carver comedy hour then,” said Carver.

“Ha. Ha. Ha” said Bodie, sounding out each syllable with disdain. He turned his head so Carver wouldn’t see his actual smile, but the fucker caught him.

“See, you think I’m hilarious,” said Carver, shifting and catching Bodies eyes so he was even further in Bodie’s personal space, pushed in close by the Friday evening bar crowd. “I got jokes for days here, but what I don’t understand is here you are talking to me, and yet when we’re out in public you refuse to talk to me.”

“We’re east side now. Who the fuck here I care about seeing us talk,” lied Bodie. He shouldn’t be doing this. It was a dumbfuck move no matter how you looked at it.

You don’t fucking talk to police unless you’re in cuffs, not alone. And you sure as fuck don’t laugh at their jokes. You talk to a cop and people think you’re _talking_ to the police, no matter the history.

“What the fuck is he doing here,” said another voice. And there was history there too.

“Fuck you. I thought you traded in for a partner that had hair,” said Bodie. “And I was just leaving.”

He hadn’t even gotten a drink but fuck if he was going to hang out with Herc. Not when he was being the voice of reason. What the fuck _was_ Bodie doing here. The liquor from the party earlier was setting down in his stomach now and the reality of the situation was settling with it. He was weighed down now, not floating and he was in the bar far from his territory alone with cops who seemed to enjoy beating him a bit too much.

Carver laughed and stood up from the stool. He grabbed Herc’s arm and started him towing him over to a booth. “Come on Herc”

“No, seriously, what the fuck-”

Bodie watched them go for a second before moving toward the door. He turned back around when he heard Carver say, “Hey Bodie, I’ll see you around.”

Bodie didn’t bother responding. No fucking way he was seeking Carver out again. It was up to him if he wanted to talk more with Bodie.

Carver was telling the truth though, because about a week later he rolled back up, his new white partner trailing him like a beaten dog. He started in right away chattering about like Bodie’s corner was his barbershop. Bodie pretended Carver wasn’t there, concentrating on the heat of the sun, letting his voice float past like just another Baltimore background noise. 

Carver walked in closer, putting Bodie in his shadow. “You’re ignoring me, huh. It’s OK, Bodie, I know I’m your favorite.”

Bodie looked away, pretending like he didn’t hear. Carver was continuing his patter, pestering Lex about his Wizards tee. When he paused Bodie looked back over. Carver was leaning back against the brick of the store, relaxed, like they were actually friends. 

Squinting with his head tilted, Bodie thought maybe they could be, if you didn’t know them. But then Bodie had to blink away the glare of the sun from Carver’s badge and the world went back into the focus. Carver tilted his head at Bodie like he was asking a question. Bodie just shrugged.

Carver was rocking up and down on his toes impatiently, like he was waiting for something, though fuck if Bodie knew what. The fucker could never stay still, anyway. Bodie started a countdown in his head from ten. By the time he hit five Carver had yelled out a “have a good day gents” and started walking back to his car by one.

Bodie laughed a little. The fuck was his life that he could predict that. He walked up to curb before the unmarked car could pull away. 

“Hey, Carver, you’re wrong.” Bodie waited for Carver to look at him before finishing. “Officer Colicchio’s my favorite.”

Bodie danced back from the window at the glare he got from Colicchio, laughing.

“You would think you would be a better liar by now Bodie,” Carver called out the window as they gunned into traffic. Fucker always wanted the last word.

Bodie strolled back to the brick storefront, starting another countdown in his head. When he reached zero he nodded at Reecee and gestured at the fiend hovering across the block. Time to get back to work.


End file.
